


The green-eyed jumper

by id_ten_it



Series: Inktober [7]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin (Kingsman), Inktober, Inktober 2020, M/M, Merlin's Minions, Pre-Kingsman: The Secret Service
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/id_ten_it/pseuds/id_ten_it
Summary: Galahad is distracted from a new toy to test, Merlin has an infatuated minion.What can the magician expect if he insists on wandering around the place in a jumper that makes him look that good?
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Series: Inktober [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003845
Kudos: 14





	The green-eyed jumper

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Inktober prompt nr 8 (tempt) from the alternative Inktober pompt list found [here](https://vkelleyart.tumblr.com/post/630712063324504064/we-are-doing-this-thing-yall-so-it-was), with thanks for the originator for doing the hard yards and providing a better alternative to the original.

Harry – _Galahad_ – is a smooth voice in Merlin’s ear. Merlin barely listens, fingers and eyes busy with the watch strap a minion brought him a week ago. The minion – Liam – thinks he has found a more effective use for the concealed garrot than just being a hidden killing device. Merlin is fairly sure the idea will work both because it seems a natural step to make an antenna out of curled wire and because he can’t imagine Liam presenting him with a worthless trinket.

Merlin isn’t unfamiliar with puppy love, and it is common knowledge he has few issues sleeping with other Kingsmen, but he firmly draws the line at direct subordinates. Liam has been discussing a transfer. Merlin has neither encouraged nor discouraged; he is sure the infatuation will wear off but it seems churlish to say anything.  
Galahad finally stops talking his frankly appalling Croatian and Merlin confirms he is in a secure location. Secure is relative – the cave is hidden, monitored, warm and dry. “Change systems” he orders, wincing at the burst of static as Galahad obeys. The next moment he is hearing the familiar voice, drily amused and smug with himself.  
  


“Testing one two one two. Galahad here, everyone’s favourite agent. If this device doesn’t work I’ll-”  
“ _Thank_ you Agent Galahad.” Merlin mutters, “as a testing tape this recording will be on file in the R&D lab as well as the agent library.”  
“Let the record show that if this doesn’t work I will tell Liam myself.”  
“The record will be glad, I’m sure. Do carry out the requisite field tests.”  
Galahad, mind back on the job, moves around the cave, shifts around different terrain outside, and does enough jumping up and down to bring on a light sheen of perspiration. As expected there are no ill-effects. “Keep this system on but activate the primary. You’ll miss your sched.”  
“I’m talking with you!”  
“That doesn’t mean you abandon procedure. Carry on.” Merlin frowns again at the blast of static, stretches his legs, and retrieves his pen from under the prototype watch strap.

“Merlin, Galahad, Merlin, Galahad, checking in.”  
“Go ahead.”  
“Secure in a cave five miles south east of border entry point. I’m not being followed. Will move up in two hours or on your command.”  
“There’s currently no indication they’ll break tradition and cross before three.”  
“I’ll establish oversight by two then. Be good to get this over with, it’s cold enough to freeze a man to death.”  
“Do some more star jumps. I’ll check in in two hours.”  
“What! Where are you going?”  
“Just grabbing a cuppa.”  
Harry’s theatrical groan was recognisable even through the tinny feedback of two microphones.  
“Don’t tempt me. What I wouldn’t give for a nice hot tea, just a splash of lemon…”  
“Aye, that sounds nice. I’ll get one from the tree on my way to the mess. Thanks for the idea.”

More groaning, but Merlin had ducked off. He is back in a minute, builders tea warning his hands as he idly prods a clear space on his desk. There are some perks to being Merlin – one being that he has the systems and space to run missions from his own desk instead of one of the handlers’ machines down in the main floor. The ‘puppet closet’ is not conducive to quiet cups of tea. Another benefit is the easy access to tea making facilities.

He has just finished re-testing the strap, Harry’s quiet breathing in one ear, the steady ambience of computer fans in the other, when the door opens and Liam squeezes into the room.

Liam, whose rich brown curls and sensitive mouth belie the finely honed muscle and sharp eyes taking in everything at once. Liam, who holds the door a moment longer than usual. Liam, who smiles a bashful smile and stands close enough Merlin can smell his aftershave. “Did you check it yet?” Regarding the impeccable watch strap his face crumples like the fender on a cheap car.  
“If you aren’t going to bother…” Impetuously snatching at the strap, Liam found his hand batted aside, his wrist jerked out at an unnatural angle. “Ouch!” he gasps, more surprised than hurt. Surprised and immobilised, he realises as he tries to shift his balance. To his immense shame he also realises Merlin’s broad hand is warm, burning where it meets his own skin. The callouses and scars are noticeable, but not unpleasant. He watches closely as Merlin licked his lips, sat, then releases him.

  
“Apologies. Reflexes. You know how it is.”  
“I didn’t realise…” Liam trails off, realising he was close to the older man, close and eager. Clearing his throat and willing down his blush, he tries again. “I’ll just…take it back…”  
“Liam.” Merlin’s gentle burr purrs the name, patting the hand he’d so easily ensnared. “I _have_ looked at it. I’ve just finished putting it back together again. It’s a very fine piece of work.” Before Liam can say anything he continues, “However, it took me at least five minutes to rewind, and I’m practiced at mechanical equipment and sitting in a nice warm office. There’ll need to be some sort of retractor system added.”  
“Then you’ll field test it?”  
“Then I’ll re-test it. Galahad has already used it as his alternate comms net.”  
“Oh! Oh _Merlin_ you didn’t!” six foot of eager, muscular, man hug close, gasping excitedly.

“There now. ‘Tis only a test. There’s still plenty of room for improvement.” Merlin frowns as the hug continued for several seconds. More sharply, especially given the likelihood of Liam’s hips moving close enough he can’t ignore them, he adds, “I am working a mission lad.”  
“Oh. Of course. Sorry.” He didn’t _look_ sorry, Merlin reflected, running a hand over the stubble on his head. Realising from Liam’s reaction that he is wearing his most comfortable – and shortest – jumper, he returns to prodding at the watch strap. “I’ll talk ye through the ideas I had. Go and get a cup of tea.”  
“Want one?”  
“I wouldn’t say no to a top up.” Passing over the mostly empty mug, Merlin watches Liam nearly dance out of the room, and sighs. Was it too much to hope for a bid for world domination? The workload would keep these sorts of issues well in check.

The two men are working on the watch when Galahad’s next sched comes through. Nothing to report, he’s moving into position. Liam, who has no idea what the mission was about and no need to know, waits with baited breath while procedure is meticulously carried out, eyes barely leaving his mentor’s face. What he saw there did not make him any less sure of his initial assessment. Whether either man knew it or not, Merlin is awfully fond of Galahad.  
Still, so long as Merlin isn’t doing anything about it, there’s plenty of opportunity for others to offer themselves for the attentions of Kingsman’s most eligible bachelor (three years running in the quarterly staff magazine. Not that Liam was paying any attention.).

The two support staff work in companiable quiet on Merlin’s suggestions, Liam happy to follow the lead for now. As the time crept towards Galahad’s next sched, however, Merlin stands, regarding Liam firmly. “Ye’d best be off. This isn’t anything ye need ta hear.”  
“Of course.” Merlin’s right, unsurprisingly, Liam has no requirement to know anything about this mission. Gathering the prototype and the few tools he brought with him, Liam risks a quick smile. “Hope it goes well. I’ll see you in the morning Merlin.”  
“Bright eyes and bushy tailed” Merlin agrees, rolling his eyes and drawing his chair closer. With a simple movement he dismisses the work they’d been doing, utterly focussed on handling instead.  
Thus forgotten, Liam watches for a moment, admiring the lean lines and competent movements. He would have stayed for longer, but Merlin clearly wasn’t quite settled yet and Liam had no wish to upset the man. Silently he slips out, ensuring Merlin is left in peace. As the door shut he hears the crackle of static, the quiet tones of a knight starting a report.

“If you let him stay then he could have drawn his own conclusions” Harry muses, secure in his position and still with five minutes to play, “stop him mooning about the place.”  
“Jealous?” Merlin’s tone is even more playful than his partner’s, one lip quirked in certain amusement.  
“Of him? Never.”  
“Well he is here” Merlin points out, “And you know I like my men a strong blend of smart and strong.” There’s a studied pause then he adds, “Usually, anyway. Sometimes I just settle for the ones that look good in a suit.”  
Galahad mutters something that was thankfully lost in the encroaching mission.  
  


“Mission recording activated” Merlin intones, switching to the permanent recording device and smiling at Galahad’s traditional tsk. They wait in silence for a while, Galahad busy and Merlin filling in the electronic log’s details. It is nearly half an hour later when Galahad breaks radio silence. “The crossing is complete. I’m affecting intercept now.”  
“Roger.” Not for the first time, Merlin wishes the portable video feed in development was ready for deployment. Galahad is still transmitting on both the regular and the prototype, broadening his emission profile a little but not to a concerning amount. The mission had been carefully selected as low-risk in terms of prototype tests. On top of everything else, Merlin is noting any issues for further R&D. None of this gives him any visual clues to work from.

Over the airwaves he hears again – and winces at again – the faulty Croatian; Galahad clearly had managed to retain some charm if he had stopped the car.  
Then there is silence. Merlin sits quietly, breathing deliberately and waiting out the adrenaline surge. The silence is probably a good silence. People planting bombs have to have moments of quiet. “Mission accomplished” comes the call soon after.  
Merlin breaths out heavily. “Roger. Return to base.”  
“Gladly. Galahad out.” At the cue, Merlin flicks off the official recording, noting the change in squelch as the prototype is turned off at Galahad’s end.

“I’ll be back in about five hours.” Galahad notes conversationally, “Any chance you’ll be around?”  
“I do have other things to do than wait around for you” Merlin retorts drily, smirking into his empty mug. “There’s a very attractive lab rat here who will be off work in about four hours.”  
“You amaze me. I thought you techie types only liked the ones and zeroes. I have always imagined you as unsullied by our strange human ways.”  
“Yer a smart man” Merlin concedes, “I understand humanisation training is to begin at ten this morning. Usual place. Class will start without ye if ye are late.”  
“I’ve always been a quick study. Galahad out.” Harry runs swiftly back the way he had come, back over the border, notes in a detached way the _whump_ of a distant explosion approximately the right size for a small car. He follows the extraction plan to the letter, landing in London not far past seven and sweeping through medical and towards the debrief as quickly as possible.

“Galahad!” Eager steps approach. Galahad groans, spying one of Merlin’s minions racing down the corridor. “How did it go?” The minion asks, speaking with the swift tone of the over-caffeinated, “The watch” he adds when Galahad looked confused.  
“Oh. Very good thanks Liam.” Galahad chalks himself up a point for correctly deducing a name, “Difficult to re-org in the field and not as clear as the longer antenna but perfectly suited to short distances.”  
“We’ve been working on the re-org already.” Liam admits, “Anything else?”  
Harry shakes his head, “Nothing major. I’ll fill in the R&D form when I’ve done this mission debrief. Then you can pick my brains alright?” He smiles warmly, holding Liam’s gaze for a moment, counting down the hours until ten o’clock with a certain desperation. Merlin had meant what he’d said.  
“Perfect. Cheers Galahad.” Mollified, Liam races off, long legs easily removing him before Galahad even opens the door to the inner sanctum.

***

“Thank fuck.”  
“Some people find ‘honey I’m home’ is quite useful in this situation” Hamish observes from his luxurious position on the sofa, “Or ‘alright love?’”  
“The day I call you ‘honey’ is the day you kill me in my sleep with a bedsock and a bit of dental floss.” Harry grins, pouring himself a drink and nudging Hamish’s sinful legs aside so there’s space for two on their hedonistic couch.  
“Nonsense. I’ll just give you bad intel and let some evil power do the hard work for me.”  
“Hmmm.” Squinting up at Hamish from the man’s chest, Harry attempts to flick an errant curl of hair from his eyes without actually moving, “I don’t believe you. You’re too hands-on. Merlin in the kitchen with the candlestick.”  
“We don’t even have candlesticks.”  
“I bet we do. I bet you’re hiding one somewhere so when I’m killed with it everyone assumes it can’t be you because you’re too technologically minded to use something as old fashioned as a candlestick.”  
“Yer right. We do have one candlestick. It’s shaped rather like a club and I imagine it will stave in yer skull quite nicely.” Hamish runs gentle fingers down his partners scalp, shifting the hair so it is out of his eyes and gently rubbing away the tension of the last few days.  
“That’s what I thought. Gods. Don’t you dare stop.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” With his free hand, Hamish deposits their glasses on the table, then sets to work on Harry’s jaw and back of his neck.  
“Anyway” Harry mumbles, nuzzling into the soft jumper, “m’not surprised Liam was after y’today. This jumper rides up when y’lift y’arms.” He breaks off to yawn, Hamish’s hands slipping to his shoulders. “And it’s _green_.”  
“I thought ye liked green.” Hamish gently levers them both up, half-carrying Harry up to their bedroom.  
“Anyone who doesn’t like y’in green is blind n’stupid.” Harry points out, flopping onto the bed, “But doesn’t mean Liam can go round ogling you. C’mere” He adds with majestic irrelevancy. When Hamish hesitates, Harry gestures, counting himself successful only when he has the offending garment off and in a corner of the room. “There now. S’better.”  
“Yer half asleep Harry.”  
“M’not. S’just the massage makes me slurry.”

Harry is fast asleep five minutes later, fingers still curled in Hamish’s shirt; the Scot smiles fondly. Tempting, to go downstairs and catch up on work. Tempting, to give in to three exceedingly short rest cycles and fall asleep. Tempting, to wake Harry and demand satisfaction. In the end Hamish settles for the middle ground, undressing them both to their pants and settling Harry against him, using one broad shoulder as a prop for _The Journal of European Computer Scientists_.  
  



End file.
